


Agreement

by Mr_Walrus



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bestiality, Gross, Knotting, M/M, Prostitution, Rape, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Walrus/pseuds/Mr_Walrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jayce tries to get Warwick to leave Soraka alone. It ends badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> uh hi. this is really gross haha, uh, i originally wrote this as a crack/joke fic between me and a friend, but please don't take that as i condone rape or bestiality or anything because i dont and those things are crimes for a very good reason. i don't know if this is good or not, i wrote this in the very early hours of the morning over a period of a few days when i had free time. i have no idea how to write warwick. plz forgive. if you have anything to say, go ahead and comment lol even if its to say im gross. thanks for reading!

Even though it was borderline pitch black in the woods near the Institute, Jayce had been through them enough to know where he was going. 

Why was a bit harder to answer. 

But Soraka had asked and, well, he was the nicest and most charming guy around of course, so who else would be better fitted to talk to Warwick? Absolutely no one. 

Also the fact that Caitlyn had threatened to reveal his criminal record to the Summoners if he didn't remedy the situation might have played a role in his agreement. Just maybe. 

A twig snapped behind him. He froze. 

More rustling from the same general area accompanied by familiar heavy breathing. 

Wow. If Warwick really was trying to sneak up on him then... just wow. It was kinda funny in a way. He snickered quietly, so much for being one of the greatest hunters on Runeterra.

Jayce turned around to face the noise. "You know I can hear you, right?" 

"Yes." 

He became acutely aware of the hot moist breath smothering the back of his neck. Warwick laughed darkly as glared back at him. 

"Ha ha, very funny." 

The Blood Hunter backed off slowly, his sharp fangs and red eyes seemingly glowing from the moonlight's reflection. 

"I see that bitch has decided bring others into our little quarrel." 

"Soraka's not a bitch," snapped Jayce, "and trying to fucking eat her isn't a 'little quarrel'!" 

"If it were your humanity at risk, you'd stop at nothing to keep it." 

"Not if it meant killing an innocent!" 

Warwick let out a huff that sounded vaguely frustrated and amused at the same time. "What happens to the Starchild doesn't concern you." 

"Yes, it does." 

"Why?" 

"Because I'm a goddamn hero, Warwick. And last time I checked, heroes don't stand by as an innocent girl is eaten!" 

Warwick's muzzle was back in his face, his teeth bared. "And who was it that gave you that title? The Statesmen? The Sheriff? Or did you claim it for yourself?" 

Jayce stood his ground and stared into the wolf's red eyes, "I honestly don't give a shit about what you think about me. I came here to make sure you leave Soraka alone, so just get out of her way, and I'll get out of yours." 

"Why would I do that? I have nothing to gain from your terms." 

The Blood Hunter grinned, strings of saliva pouring down from his jowls. Jayce really couldn't figure out why the Summoners bothered to keep him around. If it were up to him, he'd just put the man out of his misery. That'd be be better for everyone, but no, let's keep this walking batshit abomination around. Ugh, even just thinking about it pissed him off more. 

"For fuck's sake," he snapped, "I'll do anything you want, just leave Soraka alone!" 

Warwick just cackled in response. 

Okay then, if he didn't want to just talk it out, that was fine. Really fucking annoying, but fine. But then he shoved Jayce aside, which was definitely not okay.

So without any rational thought, he punched Warwick.

Which was a really bad idea since the impact seemed to have hurt him more judging from the crack he had heard and felt and the numbing throbbing pain in his right hand. That and the angry giant wolfman who was now lunging towards him was helping the whole "Oh Crap" factor.

Warwick smashed him against an oak tree, which, ow, hurt like a load of bricks. He briefly hoped that his coat hadn't gotten ripped or stained before, oh right, pissed off Blood Hunter pinning him to a tree.

"There's nothing I love more than reducing a proud man to nothing."

Goddammit. Why did this always happen when he tried to be nice for once?

"The taste of broken egoism is my favorite flavor," Warwick punctuated his sentence with a small nibble at Jayce’s neck. The skin easily tore under his sharp fangs. 

"I doubt that the Summoners would appreciate it if you ate me," he said calmly.

"You said you'd do anything for Soraka's safety." 

"I didn't think you were fucking psycho enough to eat me!"

Warwick chuckled under his heavy breath, "I suppose Soraka will be a fine meal then." 

"Don't you dare lay a finger on her!" 

"Then should I just devour you in her place?"

"No-" He was interrupted by a loud abrupt growl. 

"You or her, it's your choice Jayce." 

Well, this was bullshit of the highest degree. But...

He wanted to protect Soraka, he really did, but in the grand scheme of things, surely he was more important. She wasn't human, and she'd been alive for centuries, so it wasn't fair that she got another full lifetime while his was cut short. And it wouldn't be the first time someone was sacrificed for justice. Warwick would probably be executed for her death and, in the end, wouldn't that be for the best? 

Yeah, definitely. He'd show the Summoners that they should have listened to him. If they had just gone ahead and purged the Institute of monsters like Warwick, then Soraka wouldn't have died. 

Of course it'd work out alright in the end. He never messed up, he really was a genius. 

But he didn't get a chance to actually choose. The Blood Hunter laughed again and backed off without any warning, causing Jayce to stumble to the ground. 

"And you call yourself a hero." 

"Shut up." 

"If I had asked the Prodigal Explorer, he wouldn't have hesitated to sacrifice himself for the Starchild." 

"Goddammit, don't bring Ezreal into this," he could picture Ezreal in this exact situation, running his mouth. He vaguely wondered if Warwick would have grown irritated with the kid's nonstop banter and simply left or if he'd be amused by his dumb blind enthusiasm.

"Your answer, what was it going to be?" Warwick dropped to all fours and sniffed at Jayce's face. "Not that it matters. Your hesitation said everything."

The Defender rushed back onto his feet to get away from the wolf, taking a few steps back and bracing himself against the tree for good measure. "If you're just going to fuck around, then I'm leaving."

"Awfully eager aren't we?" He gracefully raised himself back to his full height.

Jayce just glared in response. 

"I suppose there is more than one way to skin a cat," muttered Warwick. He pressed himself even closer to the tree as the Blood Hunter got uncomfortably close. 

"Go fuck yourself." 

Jayce was rewarded with a face full of rancid breath as Warwick laughed. "You'll be doing that for me." 

"Wha-" then confusion turned to disgust as realization dawned. He forced an amused expression, “Heh, I get it. I don’t blame you, I am a pretty good looking guy.”

The wolf wasn’t amused. Okay then, screw lightening this godawful situation. 

He glared at Warwick again when he didn’t get a response, "You're a sick fuck."

"Now, now, it'll hurt much less if you just cooperate with me." 

"Never said I wouldn't, just give me a few minutes. I need to mentally prepare myself before I screw a dog."

Warwick backed off at that thankfully. Jayce took a deep breath before removing his coat and carefully folding it and setting it on a relatively dry and clean rock. There was no way in hell he'd risk getting wolf jizz on his favorite jacket.

"Let's just get this over with," the sooner the better, the thin wifebeater was strictly meant for in-home comfort and quick errands, not something for... for this. Well, that and it was fucking freezing. 

"What about those?" Warwick gestured impatiently towards his slacks. 

"I'm cold enough as it is. If I'm going to blow an animal, I may as well be as comfortable as possible while doing it." 

The wolf cackled again. This was exactly why Jayce went out of his way to avoid him on most days. One thing he couldn't stand, arrogant fucks.

The harsh laughs gradually turned into a menacing growl. "Don't be difficult, Jayce. Unless you want to explain why you came back from your nightly excursion with shredded clothes." 

He clenched his fists tight, half-tempted to attack the other again. But he took a deep breath, and grudgingly obeyed. One day he was going to kill Warwick, preferably slowly and painfully. Exactly the kind of thing a sick abomination like him would enjoy. 

The thought helped replenish a sizeable chunk of his wounded pride and he looked back up, just in time to see the Blood Hunter smash him against the tree again. Goddammit, he’d have a sore back in the morning. Among other things. 

“Get yourself ready.”

Jayce stared, waiting for elaboration. Of course, none came. 

“Have you never done this before?” an edge of annoyance was very evident in Warwick’s voice. 

“I don’t make a habit of whoring myself out.” 

The wolf’s jowls spread into a distressing grin. Before he could even react, sharp claws dug into his ass and- holy fuck, he could feel the skin tearing and the blood dripping down, and he was going to fucking murder Warwick for this, fuck the Summoners and the Institute, he was going to mutilate that dog and enjoy every goddamn second of it. 

His hands were suddenly in front of him, knuckles white from the cold and his tight grip on Warwick’s fur. He wasn’t screaming, of course not, he never screamed. But if he were anyone else, he was pretty sure he’d be screaming bloody murder, which was a half accurate assessment of the situation. But he couldn’t keep in a few pained groans and whimpers, especially the few instances when the claws were shoved in with force that was definitely unnecessary. 

Finally Warwick decided that was good enough, or something, and ripped his nails out, causing more blood to rush out. While Jayce was pretty relieved to finally have the claws away from his internal organs, he couldn’t really think about it on any level deeper than that. The burning raw agony prevented any coherent thoughts from being developed. 

Then he was further distracted by a fleshy warm thing being pressed into him and- okay, yeah that was a dick, and holy shit, that was a huge dog dick. Why was this happening, goddammit, shit like this wasn’t supposed to happen to him. Or anyone. But him in particular.  
“You’re a fucking psychopath,” he hissed as Warwick kept violating him even deeper. For good measure, he punctuated the sentence by spitting in the wolf’s face. The other retaliated by digging his claws into his shoulder and wrenching it upwards, causing the meat to slowly, painfully, rip away from the bone. 

Warwick suddenly stopped. Then the furry things against the shredded remains of his ass were, yep, dog balls. Great. Just fucking brilliant. Exactly what he wanted for tonight, to have a mangy animal balls deep inside of him. 

His life fucking sucked. 

He repeated that thought like a mantra as Warwick gradually pulled out, then shoved himself back in. And again. And again. It didn’t make him feel any better, but it was something to concentrate on that wasn’t the wet sound of blood and meat or the foul moist breath in his face or the beast’s sick pleasured groans or the unbearable pain or-

Okay, that was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. Now he wanted to throw up. Even more than he did beforehand, which was saying quite a lot. He felt the acrid bile rise, and instead of even making an attempt of keeping it down, spewed it on Warwick. 

But he didn’t even falter in his rough and agonizing staccato rhythm. He just ignored the watery vomit dripping down his fur and staining Jayce’s undershirt. 

In retrospect, that was stupid. But it was the only thing he could think to do. Now his stomach was empty, his throat and mouth burned, and his eyes watered. Not tears, of course not, he never cried. No matter how degrading and painful this was. He’d deal with it. Anyways, this was nothing. Nothing special or important, just something shitty that happened. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, he didn’t want to see anymore of this. How did anyone think this sort of thing felt good? It was stupid. Stupid and nauseating. His puke-covered grip on Warwick’s chest tightened. When was this going to be done? Just get it over with. 

Thankfully he started to slow down. Maybe he was almost done, or maybe he was just trying to make it last longer, or something. But then a part of Warwick’s dick swelled as he came and, oh god, oh god, what the fuck, dicks were definitely not supposed to do that, what the fuck. 

The Blood Hunter must have noticed his alarm and began to laugh languidly. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” 

If he were in any other situation, one that didn’t involve a mutated psychopath’s dick swelling in his mutilated ass and ripping the skin even further apart, then he’d have bluffed and denied his ignorance. But this was a situation which involved all of that, so he just whimpered pathetically and shook his head. 

“Aren’t you a scientist?” the wolf asked condescendingly.

“For fuck’s sake, Warwick, what the fuck’s going on,” despite his attempts to keep his voice confident and steady, it wavered under the panic and pain.

“It’s a knot. Male canines do to keep bitches from wasting their seed,” the words were obviously chosen to taunt him, but he couldn’t care less in the current situation.

“Make it stop.” 

Another menacing laugh.

“I said make it stop! Just take it out!” he tried to push Warwick away, but the wolf didn’t even budge. He felt faint and light-headed now, his hysteria was definitely not helping the blood loss.

“Imagine if someone were to come along and see you like this.” 

Jayce stopped yelling almost instantly.

“Beastiality’s illegal in Piltover, isn’t it? You’d be a joke if this got out. I wish I could see it, the great Defender rotting in a cell for sexual deviancy.” 

“Shut up.” 

“If someone were to tell the Summoners, you’d be expelled immediately.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Warwick. It’s pretty fucking obvious I didn’t consent, so just shut your goddamn mouth.” 

The Blood Hunter snorted in amusement at that, but didn’t say anything more. A few minutes of silence passed, Jayce could still feel the blood pouring down his legs and the nauseatingly full sensation from both Warwick’s knot and semen. Finally he opened his mouth.

“You’re going to leave Soraka alone.” 

It was a hesitant and uncertain question disguised as a confident statement. The reply came after several slow seconds.

“Maybe.”


End file.
